


we were built from the same dirt

by justalittleobssesed



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Lovers, Fantasy, Friends to Enemies, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, OT8, Rebellion, Sort Of, but a long time coming one, i'll add more tags as i go along
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29893002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justalittleobssesed/pseuds/justalittleobssesed
Summary: rebellion.whether it's serious planning to overthrow the pretentious empire and its emperor, or if it's just a black market made for the sale of stolen things that common folk cannot afford or are prohibited from using, it is unknown.well, jisung supposes he'll find out soon enough, as he's been sitting in an extremely uncomfortable airtight vacuum execution cell for approximately thirty-six hours, and he thinks the guards expected him to die within the first half hour.----------------or, the world is changing and not for the better. jisung is among the few who change with it. and maybe hyunjin isn't on the good side of the story.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Han Jisung | Han/Hwang Hyunjin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	we were built from the same dirt

too often, the people of this world inhale gulps of air without thinking. 

thinking about where every breath, every molecule of oxygen comes from. 

ages ago, or in any other world, the action would have been simply unthinkable - why wonder where the oxygen comes from, why worry about the supply of it, why thank the gods for something so perpetual? why waste time thinking of the beautiful, strong, healthy trees that glow with life and sustain every inch of life that can be counted. 

however, in this world, the glowing life, the beauty of the trees, it had been cruelly ripped from their roots and trunks years ago. in this trying world, that life is solely bestowed upon the wealthy and the royal; fress breaths of oxygen given only to those who could stand to afford it. all the while, the rest of the population is left with dirty, 'recycled' air. air that causes sickness and disease with every inhale, plague and ruin running alongside every millisecond; exclusively because human lungs simply weren't developed for, weren't accustomed to such a pitiful excuse for air. 

while the wealthy spread their lavish picnics full of fruits and vegetables under sprouting trees, the common people died and withered away; it sometimes almost seemed as if the rich enjoyed watching people suffer, starve and suffocate.

however - there is something the wealthy aren't aware of;  
some of the common people are adapting. some of them are becoming stronger. 

there are people amone the common folk, people who simply don't get sick. people who never seem light-headed due to the lack of air, people who don't seem to necessarily need to breathe. these gifted people -most commonly found among the younger generation- can enter the parts of the world that no longer sustain oxygen, parts of the world that have been long lost to both the wealthy and common folk. and, obviously, they have been doing exactly that but for a single purpose; 

rebellion. 

whether it's serious planning to overthrow the pretentious empire and its emperor, or if it's just a black market made for the sale of stolen things that common folk cannot afford or are prohibited from using, it is unknown. 

well, jisung supposes he'll find out soon enough, as he's been sitting in an extremely uncomfortable airtight vacuum execution cell for approximately thirty-six hours, and he thinks the guards expected him to die within the first half hour. the empire is surely not going to be thrilled by this - the fact that they will actually have to get their hands dirty while killing the supposed 'filth' that is him will be jisung's last satisfaction.

honestly, jisung is surprised they resorted to such a painless way of execution; death by suffocation. perhaps because it's supposedly a quick death, leaving him no time to escape (a mistake the empire had made before). even then, the thought of the emperor settling for him specifically to have a nearly painless death wounds him! he'd killed so many of hir soldiers and commanders, you'd think he'd want to draw out jisung's death for at least several weeks. maybe at least make it a little interesting, adding a few torture devices in here and there. 

jisung, having absolutely nothing better to do, thought back to when he was first led into the very cell he now occupied, and how he had only held a single regret. the regret of not being able to stare into the emperor's eyes as death inevitably came for him, ensuring that the emperor could both see and feel the hate in his eyes, so different from how jisung used to gaze at him. 

jisung wanted him to know that he was proud of the misfortune he had caused him. 

but now, jisung supposes that he will, in fact, have the chance to do just that. but instead of him facing death, it is the emperor who will have death's claws wrapped around him, blood dripping from his skin, of course courtesy of jisung's blades. 

as his mouth curled into a smirk at the thought, jisung was rudely interrupted from his fantasy by the door of his cell being thrown open, a swarm of guards following, as well as a gust of oxygen that filled his lungs pleasantly. the guards instantly pointed their swords at his body, exchanging weary looks among each other. a younger looking guard that was his height, maybe only slightly taller with cat eyes and silky shoulder-length hair neared jisung holding a pair of handcuffs, surely intended for his wrists. 

jisung chuckled. "ooh kinky! but i'm afraid i just can't accept! short dudes just aren't my thing, and neither is handing over control."

apparently, although jisung was hilarious, (self proclaimed but who's keeping track), the guards had a shit sense of humour, and jisung soon found himself face-down on the floor, blinking rapidly in an attempt to re-focus his eyes, his lip throbbing. the guard, despite jisung's squirming and half-hearted protests, lifted him none-to-gently and yanked his hands behind his back, cuffing them together. another guard who he had failed to see pulled jisung to his feet by gripping his hair, nearly ripping it out of his scalp and making him hiss in pain. with a grunt, the cat-eyed soldier pushed him out the door in front of him. 

"count yourself lucky that a higher up than me wants to see you, as i would already have gut you simply for your mouth by now." his monotone voice bored jisung. like, if you're going to threaten him, at least put some malic or hate into it. 

as a response, jisung pouted. "you're no fun." surely enough, the guard's jaw twitched along with his hand, as if he was restraining herself from socking jisung across the face again. other than that, he gave no sign of acknowledgement. 

another guard walked up to the two, a taller yet younger looking man with big eyes who resembled a puppy, seemed to have a short eye conversation with his fellow guard, and after nodding at the cat-eyed guard, turned and promptly shoved jisung down the long corridor that had been outside his cell, 'gently encouraging' jisung to start walking. 

they trekked along said corridor for about ten minutes, every millisecond filled with plans of escape, but with his hands bound and his self empty of weapons, not to even mention his entourage of guards, jisung's mind failed to come to a valid plan where he could escape without a multitude of injuries. after minutes of deafening silence and quite a hefty glare upon him from both the puppy guard and cat-eyed guard, they finally turned a corner into a brighter lit hallway, leading up to the most magnificent pair of doors jisung had ever seen in his life - fifteen feet tall, decorated with red and gold designs swirling about upon it. as he was forcibly led nearer towards the massive doors, they began to inch open, revealing a vast throne room decorated with crimson marble walls, gold curtains and people spread out with clothes matching the theme, all their fabrics looking just as expensive as jisung thought their facial surgeries and fake noses must be. 

alas, every throne room must have a throne, and every throne must have a prestigious, narcissistic asshole seated upon it, clad in wear that could pay for every hungry child's dinner across the country. 

this particular asshole looked down at jisung and smiled, his perfect teeth shining, his posture relaxed, but his eyes contradicted his appearance. they were tight with fury. he stared, his long, blond hair smoothing across his lime jacket-clad shoulders, fitting perfectly with his colour theme of the room. as everyone bowed, jisung rolled his eyes and scoffed in indigence. "well, your hair fits the theme colours, but you really still don't know how to dress properly to fit with the theme, do you?" 

a kick to the back of jisung's knees sent a shooting pain up his legs, but failed to bring him to kneel. shoving the cat-eyed guard away from him, he raised his eyes back to the emperor, grinning. 

"did you miss me?" jisung said mockingly. "is that why i'm here? no one to give you love anymore?" jisung winked at the emperor, shoulders shaking in a soundless laugh as he watched the emperor's fists clench. to infuriate him further, jisung glanced at the emperor's left hand where a rind once found its home. "irreplaceable, am i?"

deep down, his heart tugged at the thought of another ring, a different ring being there. 

and for the first time in three years, the person who jisung was once in love with, the person who was in love with him, the boy who called him his soulmate, the boy who he danced in the kitchen at two in the morning with to the music of silence, the boy who gifted a promise ring to me at the age of seventeen, his ex-partner in crime, spoke. 

"han jisung, i could easily say the same for you, traitor." 

jisung hadn't heard his name from those lips in years. and even as he kneeled in front of the emperor of the hwang dynasty, most likely only a few hours away from death, he couldn't help but smile bitterly in remembrance of the boys they had both once been. desperate to avert his slightly misty eyes, he chuckled and raised his head to the ceiling, and huffed.

"you always had such a way with words, hwang hyunjin."

and their eyes finally met.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm honestly just posting this to see if it's worth making a story out of?? i wrote this years ago but from a 1st pov and as a random writing with original characters - and i just realised how much the relationship just screams hyunsung. 
> 
> please tell me what you think and thank you so much for reading!
> 
> (also i'd just like to say that while hyunjin is appearing to be 'evil' in the fic, he is obviously not in real life and i support him and stray kids fully) 
> 
> title from 'your sister was right' by wilbur soot


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